Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum
by apocalypse later
Summary: Portgas D. Ace - Marine extraordinaire. Or so he hopes. AU, warnings inside. [ON INDEFINITE HIATUS]
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, obviously.

**Warnings:** Likely to be future romances/relationships including het, slash and possibly femslash; these won't be the focus of the story. Odd pairings will likely abound, as well as OCs. Swearing, violence, AU, and eventual character deaths (including major characters). The plot is not set in stone, and is liable to change at a moment's notice on the basis of 'I realised there was a plothole' or 'I got bored and thought of something more interesting'. That's probably all.

**xxxxx**

**Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum**

PROLOGUE: _When duty whispers low, _Thou must_, The youth replies, _I can.

**xxxxx**

"_So you want your life to be worthwhile?"_

_Ace glared up, fists bunched by his sides, trying not to cry in front of the man, no matter how imposing the office was. "Yes!"_

"_Well, then," the Fleet Admiral mused, leaning back in his chair and almost smiling at the eight year old. "I'm sure we can come to an arrangement. One that will prove to you your life is truly worth living, and wipe away the memory of that man forever."_

_For the first time in a year, Ace felt a smile of sheer hope curve onto his face as he gazed gratefully up at his saviour, hands relaxing._

_Worth. Value. The unimportance of his tainted blood. Portgas D. Ace would wash his father's sins out of his veins, and he would forever thank the Fleet Admiral for the chance._

**xxxxx**

The passing-out parade is uneventful – _boring_, Garp thinks, with a disappointment he tries to crush. He'd expected... no, _hoped_ is the better word, that something would happen, but Ace has no sudden revelation, makes no great announcement, is not kidnapped by ex-crewmates of Rogers, dragging him off with promises of a kingship.

Instead, Ace makes a brief but well-received speech as the tradition of the top graduate calls for, humbly (_humbly_!) accepts his promotion to Ensign, and moves with practised, military ease back into the formation of his now ex-compatriots.

Garp congratulates him, of course, with a hearty slap to the back that sends the kid sprawling and the other new Ensigns wincing in sympathy, but Ace neither yells or slaps his hand away; he's aloof, as cold as he's been to the man since the Vice-Admiral first told him who his father was, and Garp doesn't think that will ever change, much as he wishes otherwise.

Five years groomed carefully in Mariejois, all eyes watching him, and nearly a year at the Academy in Marineford; they've left their marks, and Garp can no longer see the young, furious, _alive_ boy that he'd left in Dadan's care for so long. Sengoku's occasional talks with the boy ('just talks', Sengoku calls them casually, though they both know that 'subtle brainwashing' would be a better term, as consummate and convincing a talker the Fleet Admiral is) have directed the boy's thought patterns, his manner of speech and opinions, and Ace is – by the textbook, at least – if not the perfect Marine, than certainly the perfect framework for one.

Thirteen years old, and even as Garp makes as much chaos of the after-ceremony celebrations as he can (which is a lot, even _with_ Bogart and several dozen flustered Marines attempting damage-control), the Vice-Admiral can see little soul in the boy, only the hints of one when a fellow Ensign moves in to greet or tease him, faces flushed with success and the alcohol that for months now they were only able to smuggle in with difficulty and in no great amount.

That Akainu has already requested and received permission for the Ensign to serve on his ship only makes the situation worse. So Garp does the only thing he can do; takes the request of an old enemy, and places the burden on the shoulders of one person whom he has never seen truly fail.

He corners the boy, slaps his back again, pretending not to notice the tenseness of Ace's jaw, or the disdain in his eyes, and announces that for the time between graduation and his ship assignment, Ace will be coming to East Blue with him for 'special training'.

If Luffy can't work his deranged, senseless magic on Portgas D. Ace, then no-one can.

**xxxxx**

It takes nearly a month to get to East Blue, sailing through the Grand Line and Calm Belt, and if not for drills and sparring, coupled with the occasional chase and running-down of pirate ships, illegal slavers and the like, Ace would have snapped and thrown himself overboard simply to get away from his former 'grandfather'.

Bogart and other men were mostly sane and helpful – his navigation had improved further, and there was nothing like actual practise in dealing with the rigging and supplies, even if he was technically an off-duty 'guest' for now. _Always try to understand the men under you, and what they're capable of_, Sengoku had told him in a variety of ways until the message was ingrained into his skull; you couldn't control what you didn't comprehend, and under- or over-estimating led to failure. A simple fact, and Ace wouldn't let it be neglected or ignored through the potential arrogance or laziness that Sengoku had warned him of.

Garp, however, made it... difficult. If he wasn't dragging Ace in for _TEA_ or ridiculous discussions about a bizarre range of subjects, from the legal limits on slavery to the balance between the numbers of Marines and pirates, wasn't enough, he was obviously trying to form some kind of bond with Ace; something he'd immediately rejected upon discovering his so-called grandfather and Dadan had been lying to him for years.

They were lucky they'd got off so lightly, Ace considered, continuing studying the map of East Blue as he attempted to work out their course. If _he'd_ been in charge, Garp would have been demoted at least, and Dadan – as a far less useful member of society – would have received execution rather than a mere life imprisonment in Impel Down. Still, it was _Sengoku_ who'd recommended the sentences, and Ace was sure he had good reasons; the teen knew with absolute certainty that the only way Sengoku could make a bad decision would be if he were working off false information, which was obviously not the case.

"Too smart for that," he muttered lazily, ducking his head sharply as one of the men glanced curiously at him, and making sure his face was something approaching the almost-expressionless countenance that experience had taught him was the mark of many of the higher-ranked Marines.

He'd go along with this ridiculous trip of Garp's for now, and count down the days until he could put himself under the command of Admiral Akainu who was both competent _and_ sane.

Fuchsia Village was a ridiculous name, anyway.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, obviously.

**Warnings:** Likely to be future romances/relationships including het, slash and possibly femslash; these won't be the focus of the story. Odd pairings will likely abound, as well as OCs. Swearing, violence, AU, and eventual character deaths (including major characters). The plot is not set in stone, and is liable to change at a moment's notice on the basis of 'I realised there was a plothole' or 'I got bored and thought of something more interesting'. That's probably all.

**ADDED NOTE:** The potential slash will definitely _not_ include Ace/Luffy. I forgot to mention that last chapter. I've also re-uploaded the prologue to fix a couple of spelling errors, so if you see any anywhere, please point them out.

**xxxxx**

**Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum**

CHAPTER 1:_ Give obedience where 'tis truly owed._

**xxxxx**

_A full education at the Academy takes ten months from beginning to end, but the pack he carries contains only the barest of necessities; it's not many days travel from Mariejois to Marineford after all, and then it's nothing but uniforms for nearly a year._

_Officer Recruit Portgas isn't deterred by this thought – he's had a long time to get used to it, and he doesn't care much the aesthetics of clothing anyhow._

_It takes only a minute to check himself over – ID, papers, bag, hair neat, boots clean, not shaking like an idiot (he's not_ that _nervous, or at least he's fairly _certain_ he isn't) – for the third time in the last ten minutes (fine, maybe a little nervous. Just a tad), and just as he reassures himself that yes, he's not going to be reprimanded or make a fool of himself, it's time._

_Perhaps his fingers clenching the strap of his backpack are somewhat tighter than they should be, but Portgas is certain that's the only outward sign he's anything less than completely calm, and he's suddenly incredibly grateful for the lessons in emotional control he'd originally thought of as merely an annoying distraction from _serious_ studies._

_He can't blow this. He can't afford to. Every dream he has (and potentially his life) is riding on his success, and Ace steps off the ship with a firm gait, regaining his land-legs with ease, all too aware of the numbers of Marines and their families, either striding or strolling past according to rank and current duties._

_Marineford is no bigger than Mariejois – slightly smaller, in fact – but what it lacks in grand open spaces and elegant gardens for the World Nobles and higher ranks, it more than makes up for in _life_. A larger population, of more varied ages, and the distinct air of disdainful formality – so eminent in Mariejois – is pointedly missing. The lack is... disconcerting, but Portgas can't say it isn't _interesting_._

_It's loud. That's interesting too. In fact, Portgas thinks, walking as purposefully as he can in the direction he was told back at HQ (and silently hoping he won't end up painfully, embarrassingly lost), this might be one of those 'experiences' Rear-Admiral Numa kept saying he should have._

_Now all he had to do was not fuck up._

**xxxxx**

When the ship finally docked – there was no real port, but a primitive mockery (in Ace's opinion) of one – Ace had one of his arms bandaged and several stitches in his left leg, which wasn't quite the first impression he meant to give upon stepping on the first land since they'd left the Calm Belt.

He trudged down the gangplank with an expression most would describe as 'sulky' (and which he would call merely resentful), bag slung over the shoulder of his unwounded arm, refusing to look at the Marines gathering in pairs or groups for their leave, or Garp swinging his rubbery grandson around in a manner that could be playful if not for the face the kid's scream seem only to be half-happy and half blind terror.

Frankly, Ace didn't blame the poor kid.

He half-skulked away, deeper into the village, hoping to get a decent room; Garp worked on the basis of 'finders keepers' rather than sending a man out to claim quarters for the officers first - something that Ace disapproved of (though he was careful not to voice it). Working with the men was all well and good, but sleeping with them when it wasn't necessary was simply beneath him.

It didn't take long to scour the village, mostly ignored by the villagers, whose suspicions or interests were directed at the grown men and teens that were looking for a decent bar and attractive bedmates, rather than one short boy, harmless-looking and not even in uniform.

'_Party's Bar_' looked promising, except for the large number of Marines starting to enter, but a flagged-down civilian confirmed it doesn't take guests, just dealt in meals and liquor; he walked on, glad for the anonymity that his civilian clothing provided.

It was just a few minutes later, seated on a public bench and chewing sullenly at a bun, that Ace spotted the kid hurtling up the street towards him, faster than he'd seen any child that age move.

He caught the kid easily as the boy threw himself onto Ace, beaming like an idiot. "You're Ace, right? I'm Luffy!"

'I don't care,' Ace felt like replying as he watched the rubbery skin of boy's flesh stop rippling slightly from the force of his sudden stop. That was hardly polite, though. "Yes. Get off me."

"Gramps says you're gonna stay with me while you're ashore, 'cause he thinks we'll be good for each other and he says you'll _spar_ with me, are you any good at fighting? I guess you must be if Gramps says we can spar and you're an _officer_ even though pi- well, there's stronger guys than _you_ out there, but I guess you're okay. I'll still kick your ass though." Apparently the Gomu-Gomu no Mi made you a) deaf, and b) not need to breathe. Ace stared in mild amazement and Luffy stared thoughtfully back at him, before investigating his ear with a finger. "Hey. Have you ever fought a guy called Shanks?"

Ace frowned at that, the moment broken, and gave him a semi-gentle shove back and off his lap, before standing up and grabbing his pack. "If you mean Red-Haired Shanks, he's one of the Pirate Emperors. If I fought him, I'd be _dead_."

"Yeah, I guess you would be," Luffy nodded cheerfully, reaching out to grab Ace's arm. Ace tried to dodge it – the boy looked _sticky_ – but he couldn't stop the arm from stretching and the hand snagging him happily around the wrist. "Shanks is _really_ strong." The brat seemed oddly proud of that fact, probably a result of being a D, and thus _stupid_. Ace refused to count himself as a real D, whatever his blood said.

Luffy was as annoying and stupid as his grandfather, although there was the innocence of a moron in his eyes, rather than the falseness of Garp's; no matter how gormless the man acted, Ace and others knew that he could be smart when he wanted, smart enough even to hide a boy from the whole world for eight years. Ace let the kid drag him, because there didn't seem to be any other option; if he refused, Garp would simply _order_ him to live with the kid, and he'd rather keep some of his pride by pretending he was merely obeying a request.

If he hadn't walked quickly, the kid would have dragged him, babbling happily and loudly pointing out various places and people as they passed – Luffy was stronger than he looked, and sadly just as fast at eating as a D; he downed the rest of Ace's bun in an instant after being offered it in the hopes of shutting him up for a minute, and was back to excitedly explaining something about the best places to spar.

"Don't you _ever_ shut up?" Ace muttered finally, which caused a moment of silence as Luffy paused to turn his head and stare at him curiously.

"Did you say something?"

Yes. "No. How long until we get there?" Manners. Manners. He was being semi-impolite now, but Ace doubted the kid would even notice, let alone care.

"Not long!" Luffy beamed, walking a little faster; his arm stretched slightly, before Ace sped up in turn to keep the same distance as before, and they turned another corner. "I live just up ahead, and it's really close to the Bar so sometimes Makino-san comes over and cooks for me. She makes _really_ good meals..." A wistful look spread across his face, marred only by the beginnings of drool appearing at the corners of his mouth, before he blinked and turned again to stare at Ace, nearly walking into a fence-post. "Can _you_ cook?"

"No." Actually he knew the basics, but Ace knew better than to get suckered into cooking for a D., however small. He remembered his own appetite at that age. Resisting the urge to scowl at the brat, Ace kept his expression bored, silently wishing he was back in Marineford or Mariejois, or with Akainu, or _anywhere_ but here. "Is this it?"

Luffy turned his head back to look, before his head swung around again, grinning widely as he fished a hand in his pocket and pulled out some keys. "Yeah, this is it! I only have the top floor, 'cause Gramps says he's not gonna pay for a whole house for '_a shrimp like you, bwahaha_' but it's _great_. I decorated it myself!"

Ace snapped back from the mild trauma caused by the kid mimicking Garp's expression and voice to find the thought of worse awaiting him – after all, ten year old boys weren't famous for their cleanliness or taste in decorating.

"You _do_ live with someone else, right?" he asked hopefully, and promptly had that hint of hope shattered brutally as Luffy beamed up at him, mouth wider than should be physically possible.

"Nah, I live by myself! Besides, there's only one bedroom. You don't mind sleeping on the floor, right?"

Wonderful.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, obviously.

**Warnings:** Likely to be future romances/relationships including het, slash and possibly femslash; these won't be the focus of the story. No Ace/Luffy. Odd pairings will likely abound, as well as OCs. Swearing, violence, AU, and eventual character deaths (including major characters). The plot is not set in stone, and is liable to change at a moment's notice on the basis of 'I realised there was a plothole' or 'I got bored and thought of something more interesting'. That's probably all.

**ADDED NOTE:** Holy crud, that was fast. I probably shouldn't post this so soon (and apologies for the exceptional slowness of the plot thus far) but never mind. In any case, don't expect the next chapter so quickly – apparently I was on a roll with this one. Yes, Numa is an OC.

**xxxxx**

**Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum**

CHAPTER 2: _When we assumed the soldier, we did not lay aside the citizen._

**xxxxx**

"_Name, age, number."_

_Reflex didn't allow him any hesitation. "Portgas, twelve, oh-two-nine." He did have to resist the urge to salute and end the sentence with 'sir', though._

_The Lieutenant didn't look bother looking up; merely skimmed the list in his hands, scratched off a name, and jabbed his pen in what seemed to be a random direction. "Group B, over there. Move."_

_Portgas moved._

_The meeting grounds just outside the Academy were, if anything, even busier than the rest of the city; four groups of Recruits, numbering perhaps two hundred in total, and with a few more hundred family members, mentors and assorted well-wishers crowding around. It was hardly impressive, but that would be reserved for the Passing Out Parade, which (in Portgas' opinion) most of the Recruits wouldn't make it to._

_The vast majority were so... _undisciplined.

_He made only brief eye-contact with a few others, taking his place in the group, trying to ignore the rampant babbling from the festering mass of humanity around him without having anyone bump into him – which was hard, considering most of them were in their late teens, with the occasional scattered prodigy or adult-entrant also trying not to attract attention._

_Ace scowled, raised his head and glared at a pair of idiots who were loudly and pointedly discussing how 'little kids' shouldn't be allowed to join the Marines._

**xxxxx**

The first evening with Luffy could only be described as... _demanding_. There was the apartment, which was small and messy (the one good thing about Luffy was that his appetite was so large there wasn't any half-eaten food left lying around to rot), and the _other_ residents of said apartment, which consisted of a large collection of beetles and other insects that Luffy had on display in the bedroom.

"Sometimes they escape," Luffy said conversationally as he had dragged Ace over to 'introduce' him to them. "They do it a lot, so they must have a really good time!"

If it hadn't been utterly beneath him, Ace might have sobbed at that. Especially since his 'bed' was made up on the floor in front of the glass case.

The other travesty of human decency was Luffy's 'cooking', which consisted of eating anything he could find in the fridge or cupboards, which – mercy of mercies – was regularly restocked by the mysterious Makino-san, who appeared to be the sole reason Luffy hadn't dropped dead of starvation. Or disease, considering it was apparently her orders that made Luffy cook the meat for at least a _few_ seconds (which was better than nothing, Ace supposed) rather than eating it _completely _raw.

... How was this kid even _alive_?

Then there was Luffy himself, who was obviously over the Moon with excitement; despite his obvious fear of Garp (which proved the kid was _slightly_ sane) he clearly loved him a great deal, proudly telling Ace how Garp was the strongest Marine in the world (it was odd how he didn't say strongest _man_, Ace considered) and how Luffy would grow up to be strong enough to kick his ass, and he didn't need milk to do it, whatever Makino-san said, so there.

Not only had Garp come – a rare event in itself – but he'd dragged Ace, who according to Luffy wasn't '_that_ much older' than himself, and thus a Valuable Sparring Partner; or in Luffy's words, 'however easy it is to beat you is how good I am!' which Ace resisted pointing out made no sense _and_ relied on the fact of his being beaten by a small child (which was highly unlikely).

He sighed, dropping his pack beside the futon laid out for him, ignoring what sounded like a small battle going on in the kitchen as Luffy tried to make dinner; before a crash that could probably be heard back at the ship finally shattered his self-control.

"_HEY_!" He stormed out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, trying not to grind his teeth as Luffy wriggled free of the pans that had fallen on top of him, blinking up at Ace curiously. "_I'll_ cook for tonight, okay?" He scanned the rest of the kitchen, trying to mask a wince at the sight of the food and plates slapped on any surface with no forethought as to what would be practical where. "It's... _nice_ of you to want to cook for me, but seeing as I'm taking up your time and space, it's the least I could do." That was pleasant enough, right?

Luffy beamed up, curiosity forgotten as he dusted himself off, obviously not caring about the mess of dented kitchenware in front of him. "It's okay! You're a guest, and Makino-san and Gramps said I should make you comfortable. Besides, it's rude to let a guest do the work, right?" He nodded happily, stretching an arm to pick up one of the pans, before turning and grabbing a packet of bacon.

Bacon. In a _saucepan_. One that had just hit a dirty floor.

It was wrong on so many levels that part of Ace – the part had dutifully learned to fill out and file any form set before him, that could recite the entirety of the Officer's Primer and regulations with pride, that could snap off a textbook salute or drill given half the chance – went into a mild fit of hysteria, contained only by the embarrassment he'd suffer at snapping at the moron over this, and the lessons in control he'd had from Sengoku and Numa.

He lunged forwards, grabbing the pan in one hand and making desperate shooing motions at Luffy with the other. "Go! Go outside or... or _something_, okay? I'll cook, I _like_ cooking, you're doing me a favour, okay? _Go_."

The younger boy tilted his head (an impressive thing to see when the head is tilted 90 degrees) and stared blankly up at Ace. "I thought you said you couldn't cook?"

Ace paused.

_If you get caught in a lie_, Sengoku had told him_, there are a number of options. In general, you can try denying you ever said such a thing, unless evidence remains that you _did_. You could try insisting that they misunderstood you, or perhaps misheard you, and explain to them what you 'really' meant. As long as you are polite and apologetic about it, accepting at least some of the blame for yourself, people are more likely to forgive you._

He had gone on, listing situations and potential excuses, explaining the words and tones to use, when to be passive and calm, when to accuse others of twisting your words, and as Ace ran through all of these in his mind, staring at the grubby-faced idiot, he knew exactly which response he'd give, because the kid was too blank, too open, face utterly bereft of accusation.

"Yeah, I lied."

Luffy blinked, tilted his head the other way, considered this for a few seconds, and then shoved the saucepan at Ace with a happy grin. "Okay! You can cook! I'm making breakfast, though."

"That's fine," Ace said, relieved, as he started planning The Cleaning of the Kitchen with (naturally) military precision. He was perfectly happy to sneak out early and get breakfast elsewhere. "Now just... go. See your grandfather or something, okay?"

"Gramps is doin' stuff right now, so I'll go see Makino," the kid said cheerfully (as if Ace _cared_), grabbing his coat off a chair and pulling it on hastily. "Make a lot, okay? Especially meat." He nodded seriously.

Ace twitched slightly at the reminder he was cooking for a D. (and himself, who Was Not A D. But Had the Stomach of One) and pointed out of the kitchen, in the direction of the apartment door. "Be back in an hour. _Go_."

Great. Now he felt like a mother. So much for a _vacation_.

He turned back to stare around the kitchen in slowly-mounting horror, judging the ratio of time he had for cleaning and cooking, before giving up and knuckling down to the hard work, just as the front door slammed closed. For once, he wished he'd joined as a recruit rather than entering the Academy, because then he'd have a great deal more experience in these chores.

For as long as he lived, Ace promised himself as he started filling the sink, no-one would ever find out about this. _Ever_.

**xxxxx**

By the time Luffy returned (proudly holding another captured beetle, how _charming_), Ace had given the kitchen some semblance of order and hygiene, even having found a mop (tag still attached) hidden in the back of the storage cupboard.

Luffy paid absolutely no attention to this miracle or the fact the floor turned out to be white and not yellow-gray, instead more interested in shoving as much of the meal into his mouth as physically possible.

"At least let me get it on the table first!" Ace yelped, snatching as many plates out of the boy's hands as he could and giving him a slap to the side of the head for good measure. "Go sit at the- no, put the beetle away and go wash your hands, first." He considered Luffy dubiously. "You do know _how_ to wash your hands, right?"

The younger boy promptly looked at him as if he were an idiot and ran off to (hopefully) obey Ace's orders, while Ace moved the meal over to the table, sneaking as many bites of his own food as he could. The less Luffy managed to steal from him and the sooner he got to bed, the better.

**xxxxx**

_Dear Numa_, the letter began, words that Ace hated. 'Dear' was too friendly for a letter written to a Rear-Admiral, and _Numa_ – a name, no title, _far_ too familiar – but that was what the man had cheerily insisted Ace use when writing to him, and the man had woven enough mental knots in Ace's arguments on various matters that the teen had finally learned when to give in semi-gracefully. He still wrote the rest of his letters more formally than Numa liked, but the man seemed content to give Ace small victories now and then.

_I arrived at Fuchsia Village yesterday, as expected, and I already loathe the place. The weather and terrain are acceptable, but the nearest Marine base is several islands away, Garp is even more moronic than ever (is that part of his grandson's training?), the local library is abysmal, and the doctor still insists my arm and leg can handle only light exercise._

_Luffy is a complete terror when awake, and a loud snorer when asleep. I'm honestly not sure which I prefer, although at least his being asleep would make it easier to smother him. _(Well – maybe that was a _little_ harsh. Ace's fingers twitched guiltily, before tightening on the pen.) _He seems somewhat tolerable, apart from being completely insane and having no understanding of the word 'tidy'. If not for a local woman and several others who keep an eye out for him, I honestly believe he wouldn't have survived a week by himself. As it is, I've already cleaned half his apartment for him, not that I think he's even noticed._

_To explain, just in case you hadn't worked it out – there's absolutely _nothing_ to do here but train, and you know that even _Garp_ isn't stupid enough to cross Doctor Late on my training ban._

_If it's not too much trouble, do you think you could find some way to hurry up my assignment to Admiral Akainu's ship? I fear my sanity might start going any day now._

(He paused, considering the letter. There was something missing... ah. Yes.)

_I hope things are well for you._

(That would do.)

_Sincerely,_

_Ensign Portgas Ace_

_P.S. If your response to this letter is yet another recommendation for a quiet drink of sake, I will once more remind you that I am underage. There is also no brothel on the island, if that was your next suggestion, and once more, I am _still_ underage._

Ace posted the letter that afternoon, stomach still revolting at the sensation of the 'food' Luffy had created (one could not call it 'made') earlier, and sighed. He had little but cleaning to occupy him until tomorrow, when his body would be healed enough for sparring.

Until then, he had a grinning rubber-idiot to take care of.


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, obviously.

**Warnings:** Likely to be future romances/relationships including het, slash and possibly femslash; these won't be the focus of the story. No Ace/Luffy. Odd pairings will likely abound, as well as OCs. Swearing, violence, AU, and eventual character deaths (including major characters). The plot is not set in stone, and is liable to change at a moment's notice on the basis of 'I realised there was a plothole' or 'I got bored and thought of something more interesting'. That's probably all.

**ADDED NOTE:** Okay, I lied. I _did_ get this chapter out quickly, but they will start getting a lot slower soon (although hopefully longer – I'm aiming for an eventual 5000 words per chapter or so.) In any case, I just wanted to point out that if you're expecting Ace/anyone anytime soon, don't bother. He's thirteen and obsessed with duty for now.

**xxxxx**

**Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum**

CHAPTER 3: _It is fatal to enter a war without the will to win it._

**xxxxx**

_He knew most of the lessons off by heart already; he could thrash any of the others in combat training; he never had to be corrected on his salute or the appropriate address for different ranks, or be ordered to remake his bed, to polish his boots or anything else that dozens of others were chewed out for over those first few weeks._

_It was hardly a surprise he wasn't popular._

_The drill Commander, the retired and semi-retired Marines who taught; he wasn't exactly popular with them either, except a few who took his deference as their due, which didn't help cast off the reputation as a suck-up._

_It _wasn't_ sucking-up, or arrogance, or anything like that – he was just _different_. Ace was twelve, Ace didn't have a well-known family member or patron backing him – he'd refused Garp's offer, and Sengoku had insisted he wouldn't get anywhere relying on people's fear or respect for a patron to carry him through, that he _had_ to rely on his own merit; and yes, Ace could see the point of that._

_So he ignored the cliques and camaraderie that built up without him, five years setting him apart from the others – five years of age difference, and five years that he'd spent in the gilded cage of Mariejois, carefully watched by a hundred eyes and mind subtly altered with each new lesson._

_He didn't understand his supposed peers. They didn't understand him. He was smaller, but could beat them senseless; he was from an unknown family, but spoke like a noble and ate with manners that belied the extra rations he was allowed, a perk that gained more than a few jealous whispers. He never got sick, but he still took three pills a day, prescribed by the Academy doctors, and no-one knew what they were for._

_The first three weeks were spent by himself, as surrounded and alone as he'd been when standing in that courtyard for the first time._

_Then he met Katsu._

**xxxxx**

"You can spar with me today, right?" Luffy insisted, which was almost exactly the same thing he'd said to Ace the previous morning.

Ace sighed, but didn't stop preparing breakfast. "Yes, today. _After_ we eat."

The boy nodded, pleased, and plopped himself back on a chair to watch Ace intently, either fascinated by the preparation of food, or because he thought Ace might try to escape if given half the chance. He swung his legs happily, sometimes tilting his feet down as if trying to get them to reach the floor, scowling when they just missed.

"You'll always be short unless you drink more milk," Ace said idly, almost mechanically, after the third time it happened, to which Luffy stuck out his tongue and simply stretched his legs far enough to reach the floor easily. Ace shrugged and went back to breakfast. As one of his instructors had said; _if it's a Devil Fruit, it isn't cheating. If you win, it isn't cheating. If a Marine does it, it's _never_ cheating._

Two out of three was good enough.

"How did you get hurt?" Luffy asked suddenly, still licking at the air. "Was it pirates?" His eyes widened at the thought, looking somewhat gleeful, and Ace hid a scowl, trying not to destroy the steamed rice in his sudden annoyance.

"Yes," he answered shortly, not looking at Luffy, who perked up even more at the answer.

There was a small sound as Luffy pushed himself to the floor, wandering over to peer in interest at Ace's still-bandaged arm (and generally get in the way). "What happened?"

Ace snorted, pausing to glance at the boy. "What do you think happened? It's not like you can head from Marineford over to East Blue without seeing a single pirate ship. We dealt with a lot of them on the way."

He didn't mention that he'd wandered dizzily to the head and thrown up after his first battle, still covered in the blood of the man who'd nearly gutted him. Ace had barely even hurt anyone that time, let alone killed them, and the shame and mortification of his uselessness still twisted at his gut. The next letter he'd sent to Numa had been even more brief and terse than usual, and Ace had spent the next day wallowing in his cabin, not that anyone mentioned it (which was, frankly, even more humiliating).

"So what _happened_?" Luffy persevered, poking at the bandaged arm. "Gramps said you got your arm and leg hurt, but he didn't say how. Was it a bunch of _really_ powerful pirates?" He was staring up at Ace, obviously expecting some great story; Ace hadn't heard stories since he was eight, had no idea how to tell them, and didn't think Luffy would approve of him laying it out like a report, or perhaps a narrative in one of his textbooks.

"The ship rolled during one fight," he said shortly, "and I fell near a hole made by a cannonball. My leg went into it and planking tore it." It had taken an hour and a half to pull all the splinters out, not to mention having to wait for the more seriously wounded to be treated before him.

Luffy scowled, obviously put out. "That's not heroic!" he huffed, reaching up to snatch a piece of broiled salmon, sticking it in his mouth before Ace could stop him.

Ace scowled back, hand clenching slightly around the knife he was using to chop with. "It's nothing to do with _heroism_. It just _happened_." He wasn't exactly thrilled with how he'd received it either, nor with the fact it would apparently leave a scar several inches long running up his leg; not exactly a great war-wound. "You can't _pick_ what injuries you get."

"_I_ wouldn't have slipped on a ship," Luffy informed him, peering at Ace's leg as though he could see the wound through Ace's pants. "You can't be a very good Marine if you're just gonna fall ove-"

There was a loud _thwack_ as Ace slammed the knife down, through the fish and impaling the cutting-board, the faint whirring of the blade vibrating filling the silence.

Ace swallowed as he stared at the gray metal. "I _am_ a good Marine." His voice was low and quiet. "I _am_, and I'm going to get even _better_, and I'm going to _keep_ getting better. So don't you _ever_. _Dare. Tell me. _That I'm a bad Marine."

His head twisted smoothly and slowly as he turned to stare at Luffy, jaw twitching faintly. "I'm going to be the best Marine the world's ever seen, and I'm going to _earn it_. And if that means I have to pay with my blood for _really stupid shit_, then _fine_. But in the end, _I'm_ going to be standing on top, and _no-one will ever doubt me again_."

He was breathing hard, Ace realised faintly, for no reason he could quite discern, and he could feel himself shivering faintly, a sharp, twisting knife rising through his stomach. He stared down at Luffy who gazed back, eyes limpid as a cows.

The younger boy cocked his head, still staring. "So is breakfast ready yet?"

Ace stared. Luffy stared. Ace slumped, gave up and got on with breakfast, not bothering to explain his arm wound.

"We'll spar later," he muttered.

**xxxxx**

They met the elusive Makino on the way to Luffy's usual training ground – she was just entering the village, a basket full of greenery that Ace vaguely recognised as herbs held in one hand.

She looked... not like someone whose wrath could force Luffy into drinking milk and attempting to cook his meat. In fact, as she smiled pleasantly at Ace and marvelled at the cleanness of Luffy's face (Ace had forced him into the bathroom and barred the door from the outside until Luffy was scrubbed), Ace thought she actually seemed rather nice.

"And she actually puts _up_ with you?" Ace wondered aloud as they continued on, Luffy waving frantically as the woman disappeared into the village.

Luffy grinned up at him, obviously pleased by Makino's approval of the neat, (then) well-mannered Marine who was travelling with him. "Makino-san's _really_ patient. She's known me since I was _this _small." He lowered his hand close to the ground, the height suggesting that Makino knew him when he was a foetus, because Ace was fairly certain even newborns weren't _that_ small. "And she feeds me a lot," Luffy added, which was clearly high praise, even when followed by picking his nose.

Ace grimaced, swatted at his hand ("Don't do that." – "Why not?" – "It's disgusting!" – "So?") and kept trudging up the worn path, ignoring the view of the fields around them. Garp had bragged about his grandson before, of course, but Ace had little idea how good he _was_. Apparently the boy had been training since he was seven ("My punch is _more_ powerful than a pistol!" the boy insisted when Ace pressed him on the matter), but knew nothing of what the style he was trained in was called, or if it even _was_ a style. "I hit things," Luffy explained helpfully upon further questioning. He paused. "Sometimes I kick 'em."

He was glad enough when they reached the open grassland, mostly because he would finally get to slap the kid around a little. Not much, but – well. He _was_ annoying. Anyway, he was made of rubber, it would hardly h-_urk_.

Ace bent his upper body back in a swift motion, dodging the rubbery fist that slammed through where his head had been an instant earlier (and continued several feet forwards), and straightened himself again, ducking aside and forwards just as the arm began to return, ramming his own fist into Luffy's stomach.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?!" he snapped, hands on hips as he glared down at the coughing, wheezing boy on the ground. "It's a _spar_, you don't just start without telling anyone!"

Luffy had regained his breath quickly, blinking up at Ace before beaming. "Wow, that _hurt_! Not as bad as Gramps' punches, though."

With a small groan at the moron's obliviousness, Ace rubbed his forehead, wishing he had some kind of headache pill with him. "_Luffy. _You can't just randomly attack people in a spar. You have to make sure they're ready first."

"Oh." The boy frowned, getting to his feet and thoughtfully tugging his cheek out beyond normal human limits. "Didn't know that. Sorry!"

Ace scowled, shrugging his jacket off and tossing it aside, backing up a few steps. "Haven't you had a _real_ spar before? – And take off that hat, it'll get damaged."

He was surprised by the way Luffy instantly froze, hands reaching to clutch possessively at the slightly-battered-looking object. "No way! I'm keeping it with me! I can look after it fine." He wrinkled his nose and gave a small tug on the hat before pushing it further onto his head. "I've never sparred with anyone but Gramps. He never waits for me to be ready though."

"I don't know if you noticed this," Ace sighed, eyeing the _thing_ atop Luffy's head – it was a _hat_, not a crown, no-one was going to steal it if he put it down for an hour or so; "but your grandfather is a violent lunatic."

Luffy laughed at that, long and loud, the most cheerful sound Ace had heard since his Academy graduation, before grinning up at Ace and patting the straw-hat happily. "Yeah, he is, isn't he?"

D's were definitely nuts, Ace decided, right before he kicked Luffy's ass several times in a row, and spent most of the rest of the day teaching him the correct posture and forms. D's were strong, fast, and 100% _crazy_, but they were far more easy to tolerate when they were smaller and less likely to demand tea-breaks at random moments.

Besides, sparring was at least fifty times better than cleaning Luffy's apartment.


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, obviously.

**Warnings:** Likely to be future romances/relationships including het, slash and possibly femslash; these won't be the focus of the story. No Ace/Luffy. Odd pairings will likely abound, as well as OCs. Swearing, violence, AU, and eventual character deaths (including major characters). The plot is not set in stone, and is liable to change at a moment's notice on the basis of 'I realised there was a plothole' or 'I got bored and thought of something more interesting'. That's probably all.

**ADDED NOTE:** While the One Piece Wikia states Dawn Island to be the island that _both_ Luffy and Ace grew up on, I don't believe Oda explicitly stated whether Luffy was merely taken to Corbo Mountain on the _same_ island or whether it was a different island entirely. For the sake of this story (i.e., it's taken me long enough to get this chapter out without going back and altering previous chapters), they are _different_ islands. Apart from that, the Dadan family, etc, are as canon.

I've just replaced the previous chapters so the line-breaks work again (thanks, you moronic website) but that's the only change made. If you notice anything going wonky in the future, please review so I can fix it. Same with spelling errors, plot holes, and whatever else. Gracias.

Apologies for the long wait, real life gave me a solid beating. On the brighter side, this turned out quite a bit longer than I intended. Ew, fluff.

**xxxxx**

**Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum**

CHAPTER 4: _Other things may change us, but we start and end with the family._

**xxxxx**

_Katsu was five years older than him, just like the majority of Ace's 'peers', and they had absolutely nothing in common besides location. Appearance, personality, mannerisms, viewpoints – Katsu was bright and social, with a charisma that attracted friends and acquaintances like some kind of gravitational pull._

_Ace... had books and access to the staff training rooms._

_He wasn't even jealous of the older boy – Katsu was constantly in the top three recruits, but he never threatened Ace's spot, and there wasn't any point in worrying much otherwise. A good social life wouldn't save you from a bullet in the head or a sword to the guts, so who cared? And if there was a twinge of something in his stomach when Ace walked past the older boy to see him side-by-side or surrounded with friends, engaged in some private joke, then it hardly mattered._

_It was therefore something of a surprise when Katsu approached him in the fourth week, smiling cheerfully and clapping his back, asking for tutoring with no sign of mocking or embarrassment at such a request to a boy half a decade younger than himself._

_No-one dared ridicule Katsu for it, either. Especially within a week when Katsu accidentally nearly broke another recruit's neck in sparring with a move that Ace had shown him._

_Sengoku had been right, as always. Politics and alliances really _were_ useful._

**xxxxx**

When they weren't sparring, Ace still found himself with Luffy most of the time; the boy seemed to become oddly more tolerable the more Ace saw of him, despite the close proximity showing off more and more of his stupidity.

Luffy fought with a wild abandon and refused to back down, always insisting on 'one more go', despite Ace showing no sign of ever losing. He half-dragged Ace through the streets, introducing him to what seemed like the entire population, or bounced alongside, tugging at his hand and asking endless questions. He was so grateful to Ace for spending several hours hunting down a massive yellow scarab that had escaped his collection that he actually _washed his hands_ before dinner without being asked (and Ace didn't have the heart to tell him he'd mostly looked because he didn't want the thing crawling over him in his sleep that night).

Luffy was... odd. Energetic (too much so, according to Woop Slap, whom Ace met on the fourth day and had stared suspiciously at Ace like he expected the teen to be trying to kill Luffy, although he seemed less paranoid after hearing Ace was there on Garp's orders), and with an enthusiasm and natural stubbornness that calmed and frustrated Ace in equal measure.

He wrapped sticky or grubby fingers around Ace's hand and half-pulled him everywhere, he still couldn't cook worth a damn, he did frankly _disgusting_ things with his rubbery body, he-

Ace kind of tolerated him anyway. Maybe. A bit.

And just like that, days passed. Ace would have liked to say they passed in a blur, but it would have been patently untrue – by the time the week was nearly up, it seemed to Ace that he'd been there at least twice as long, and... somehow, not unpleasantly so. Except for the time Luffy started a kitchen fire, which had been a lot _less_ than pleasant, as funny as Luffy had found it.

The orders came at Party's Bar, where Luffy was busy explaining to Makino that milk made you grow hooves, and thus forcing him to drink it was cruel and unusual punishment, while Ace sat beside him with a glass of juice and wondered where the boy had picked up _that_ nugget of information.

"Sir!"

Ace turned at the word, which sounded far too close and directed straight at him to be for anyone else. One of Garp's Marines stood there with a sharp salute, holding out a small envelope. _Oh_, thought Ace, with a bizarre sense of unreality. _I'm being called '_sir_'._ That hadn't happened since they first got here, and he'd grown used to Portgas-san from the villagers or Ace from Luffy and Makino.

"Orders from Admiral Akainu, sir. Transcribed from over the Den-Den just now."

Instant alertness in Ace, and even Luffy paused in his explanation to peer curiously at the envelope and try to snatch it. The Marine twitched and he moved it away slightly, before Ace took it with a brief dismissal, staring at it.

"Aren't you going to open it?" Makino asked for a few seconds, tone curious and obviously trying to hide it.

Ace gave her a weak smile, casting another glance at the harmless white rectangle and turned it over, breaking the plain seal of blue wax and pulling the paper out with a faint sensation of queasiness.

He scanned it quickly, but it was succinct enough that even a more thorough read wouldn't have gleaned more information.

"I'm going back," he said aloud. "Tomorrow."

Luffy gave a slow, somewhat-dopey blink, face blank as he stared up at Ace. "Back? Back _where_?"

Ace frowned, re-folding the letter and setting it down on the counter-top. "Back to the Grand Line. My post is ready." He could see Makino's eyes flicking between the two of them, and pretended not to.

"But you're _here_ now," Luffy insisted, face screwing up. "You _like_ East Blue, don't you?"

Not really, but it wasn't so bad _here_. "That's not the _point_, Luffy," he said patiently, ignoring the lead ball in the pit of his stomach. "I was assigned to Admiral Akainu's ship, and it's time for me to take up my assignment. I _can't_ ask for new orders."

"You _could_!" Luffy slammed his glass down hard enough that Makino gave a small jolt, the chatter of the bar dimming as more than a few customers, Marines and civilians alike, directed small glances towards the boys and quickly looked away. "You _could_ do it, if you really _wanted_ to! Even if you only _tried_-!" Throwing an angry glare at Ace, Luffy held his eyes for a brief few seconds before turning and pushing himself off the stool, storming towards the door.

Ace gritted his teeth at the sight of the kid's tense back and small fists clenched, looking back at his empty glass and scowling. "_Moron_."

"He likes you." A new glass of juice was set in front of him, and Ace gazed up to see Makino's face full of something that could be either worry or sympathy. "He doesn't have any family around here, and the other children don't have much time for him."

"Maybe _because_ he's a moron," muttered Ace, but it was half-hearted. "I've barely been here a week."

She smiled slightly. "And you've spent every day with him. Not to mention that Luffy loves fast and easily, if you give him reason to. He's simple like that."

Ace pulled a face and took a sip of his drink. "You just opened the way for a lot of 'Luffy is simple' jokes."

A small twitch at the corner of her mouth, and Makino leaned in slightly, crossing her arms on the counter. "No matter how you try to avoid the subject, you know he's latched onto you. Not just because you cook for him, either," she added. "Luffy... well, he's a sweet kid. But he's not really interested in the same things the other kids are, and he's too strong for the sort of play they get up to. Some of them are scared by his Devil Fruit, as well."

"And he's an idiot," Ace pointed out dryly.

Makino winced slightly. "Yes, there's that too. But still, my point remains." She straightened herself, picking up Ace's empty glass while he glowered at his current one. "In his eyes, you might as well be his best friend. In fact, you probably are. The rest of us..." She gave a small, somewhat sad smile, "The rest of us are a little too old for him to be properly close to."

Ace stared at her, not quite willing to believe her words, but he couldn't find any way to refute them. Luffy had spent some hours with Garp, yes, and Ace had made his excuses to leave quickly, but for the most part – then _yes_, he _had_ spent almost all his time with Ace. They'd lived together, ate together, sparred and trained together. Luffy had dragged him around town and for a few (disastrous) hours even out fishing, introducing him to people who were certainly friendly to the younger boy; but they were all adults. Not once had Luffy pointed out a _child_ and called them a friend.

He looked back down at his drink and took another reluctant sip, but it didn't taste as good as before. "I'll talk to him," he muttered, ignoring the relief in Makino that brightened her face and relaxed her shoulders.

**xxxxx**

It wasn't hard to find Luffy; he wasn't at his home, he wasn't with Garp (Ace sent a Marine to check on that for him, having no wish to get dragged in for a cup of tea or ten and maybe a punch to the head to round it all off), and he wouldn't have gone to Woop Slap's or the Vice-Admiral's ship.

That left only one place Ace could think of, and he was right; Luffy was hunkered down on the bank of a stream alongside one of the islands windmills, scowling as he poked a stick viciously into the reeds and silt.

"You'd better wash before dinner," Ace pointed out, somewhat amused by the slight jerk Luffy gave before tightening his grip and stabbing the stick even more aggressively.

"Go away."

Ace shrugged and settled himself on the grass, crossing his legs. "There I was thinking you didn't _want_ me to go."

Luffy's face twisted, and when you were made of rubber, that really _meant_ something. "I don't care. If you want to go then you should go. It's nothing to do with me." Stab, stab. "How did you find me, anyway?" He glanced at Ace suspiciously.

Shrugging, Ace rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forwards, propping his chin in his hands as he watched the jabbing movements of the stick. "You said you found your best beetles here."

"You were listening?" Luffy stared at him, wide-eyed, for a few seconds, before his face twisted back and his arms crossed, bits of mud flinging off the stick. "I don't care! If you're going, then just go!"

Ace rolled his eyes, glaring up at the sky for a moment – he'd have prayed for strength if he had any faith in a deity – before looking back at Luffy, face studiously blank. "You _knew_ I was going to leave when I first got here. It's not like it's a _surprise_."

The younger boy gave pause at that, eyes hurt as he gnawed at his lower lip, face liberally spattered with drops of mud and dirty water. "But you should_ stay_," he said, his voice the plaintive whine of someone who knows they've already lost.

"I can't be a Marine if I stay," Ace muttered, lowering his hands slightly to inspect them, which was far better than staring at that expression. "Not as good as I could be, anyway, not in _East_ Blue." His hands twitched slightly. "This is my chance to prove myself. That I'm not-" _Useless. A demon. Tainted. _"- going to just give up at the first opportunity. I refuse. I'm _better_ than that."

He looked up to see Luffy watching him, face creased in a frown. "Is that your dream?" he asked, surprisingly quietly, and Ace paused, before giving a small nod.

"I guess so." he lowered his hands, glancing back down at them, and found he wasn't surprised when Luffy plonked down beside him, knees pulled up to his face.

"I still don't want you to go," Luffy said simply. "I _like_ having you around. You're _fun_."

Ace smiled weakly at that "You haven't spoken to many people about me, have you."

They sat in silence for perhaps a minute longer, before Ace pulled the slightly bent letter out from his jacket pocket, staring at it. He unfolded it and smoothed it, Luffy's head turning to peer curiously as he worked. "What are you doing?"

"Rear-Admiral Numa is an idiot," Ace muttered, as though that explained everything, "but he was right when he said I needed a hobby." His hands twisted and folded the paper carefully under Luffy's gaze, until he held up the distinctive shape of a seagull folded from the paper, the effect somewhat marred by the lines of crisp black text stretching across it. "I thought it was stupid when I first started, but it's kind of fun, making things. See?" He held the bird out to Luffy, the younger boy reaching eagerly to take it.

"This is really cool!" Luffy twisted it around, admiring from every angle, beaming now. "Can you make a sea king? A ship?" His eyes lit up. "_Ooooh!_ Can you make a whole _fleet_ of ships?"

Ace watched him with amusement. "I know a few designs for ships. I've never made a sea king, though." He looked back at his hands, and then to Luffy again. "I could try, I guess."

Luffy smiled so widely it would have hurt him if he weren't rubber. "Okay! But we have to get coloured paper to do it right! And you have to show me how to do it, too!" One hand still clutching the origami bird, the other whipped out to snag Ace's wrist. "Let's go home, right now!"

"Only if you wash when we get back," Ace admonished as he rose, neglecting to point out it wasn't really his _home_, that he didn't _have_ a home anyway. "I'll show you how to make as many as I can remember."

"I'll practise them," Luffy promised, dropping the hand from Ace's wrist slightly to grab at his hand, and Ace accepted it with only a mild tinge of embarrassment. "I'll get really good at it, I promise. And when _I_ leave the island, I'll show you how good I've gotten, okay?"

Smiling faintly at the enthusiasm as Luffy bobbed the bird about, mimicking flight, Ace gave his hand a small squeeze. "Okay, Luffy. And you have to keep up your training as well, all right? You won't be a good Marine if origami is _all_ you can do."

Luffy looked up at him at that, face guilty, before looking away again. "I'll keep training," he said, though his tone was odd in a way Ace couldn't quite place.

He frowned at that, giving Luffy's hand another small squeeze. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Defensively now, and he was bobbing the seagull more jerkily than smoothly, not looking at the older boy.

Ace sighed and walked a little slower, tugging Luffy back. "Just tell me."

There was a moment of silence, and Ace could just envision the kid biting his lip. "You'll get mad," the answer finally came, and Ace couldn't help the small smile at that mumbled complaint.

"I won't get mad."

Another pause, and Ace saw Luffy shift a little, the seagull's movements slowing. "Really?"

"Really."

"_Promise_?" A suspicious tone.

Ace rolled his eyes. "I promise I won't get mad."

He felt the small hand tighten slightly on his own, and Luffy's face turned to look up at him. "I'm gonna be a pirate."

..._ Oh._

He stared down, somewhat bewildered, vaguely realising he should be whacking the boy around the head and yelling at him not to be so stupid, that it wasn't something to joke about, that pirates were scum, and...

But Luffy was watching him, obviously waiting for a reaction, and so he gave another quick squeeze to the boy's hand. "You don't look like the sort," he said finally, not quite able to think what else to say.

"Well, I'm too _short_ right now," Luffy explained, looking at Ace as though he were an idiot. "But I will when I'm older!"

"Right," Ace muttered. "Have you... mentioned your career choice to your grandfather at all? Or Makino?"

"Sure!" Luffy grinned now, obviously reassured that Ace wasn't going to suddenly hit him. "Everyone in the village knows, and I told Gramps _aaaages_ ago. Gramps says I'm a shithead and that I'm gonna be an awesome Marine, but he's a dumbass and doesn't know anything. But he called before he came and said that I shouldn't tell you I'm gonna be a pirate, and Makino-san said I shouldn't either, so I didn't. But it's okay now, 'cos you're not mad." He gave a firm nod, obviously pleased with this logic, and went back to happily swinging the seagull around while Ace stared at him.

Apparently he'd been the centre of a village-wide conspiracy of secrecy for a week. It was certainly a first for him.

Ace closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead in the hopes of getting rid of the headache he was slowly developing. "Fine." It didn't really matter. Luffy was _ten_, and hardly mature for his age, either. Give it a few years, and he'd be thinking less about the glamour of piracy and have heard more about the realities of it, the ugliness that the Marines combated every day. There was no point in really worrying about it, and the best thing he could do was... well, to be a good role model. Unlike Garp, who thought punching people showed affection. No _wonder_ the poor boy didn't want to be a Marine.

Luffy turned slightly to peer back up. "You're _not_ mad, are you?"

"Of course not." He wasn't really – there wasn't much _point_ in getting mad. Casting a smile in Luffy's direction, Ace sped up again as they approached the buildings of the village proper. Luffy grinned up in return, moving to match his pace.

"That's good! I don't want you to be mad at me." He swept the seagull down in a dive that would probably break a real bird's wings. "Gramps says you're mad at a lot of people."

"Garp says a lot," Ace muttered. Then, louder, "Only people who deserve it."

"What did Gramps do?"

Ace paused at that, looking down at the boy. "What?"

"What did Gramps do?" Luffy repeated, eyes curious. "Because you're mad at _him_, aren't you?"

A scowl, and Ace swallowed slightly, fixing his gaze forwards. "It's just some stuff to do with my family. And he did something he shouldn't have."

"Oh." Luffy was silent for the briefest of moments. "What did he do that he shouldn't have?"

Ace searched for the best way to explain it, and grasped for the simplest explanation. "He disobeyed an order."

"What order?"

"Did anyone ever tell you that you ask too many questions?" Ace sighed, glancing at him.

Luffy blinked at him. "Yeah. What order?"

"He should have killed me," Ace said honestly.

There was silence after that for a miraculous ten seconds, before Luffy responded, "That's a stupid reason to be mad at him, for not killing you."

"It sounds better when you're me," grumbled Ace, tugging Luffy closer. "And that wasn't _all_ he did. He – well, it doesn't matter." He didn't really appreciate being given to _mountain bandits_ to be raised, thanks.

"If it doesn't matter, than I don't see why you're upset about it," Luffy said sensibly. "You're _weird,_ Ace."

Ace tilted his head to stare at Luffy from the corner of his eye. "I'll take that as the voice of experience."

Luffy grinned happily and gave a small bounce as he walked. "What about your family?"

"What?" His step hesitated at that.

"Your family. You said it was to do with your family, as well. So what about it?"

Ace scowled slightly. "I don't have any family."

"You just said you did."

He rolled his eyes and kept walking. "I mean none that I _recognise_ as my family."

Luffy frowned at them. "Maybe if you saw them, you'd recognise them?"

Sometimes talking to Luffy was like beating your head against a brick wall. Sometimes the wall was made of seastone. And had spikes. "I mean I don't _want_ them to be my family. And they're dead."

"Oh." Luffy went quiet, seagull flying up and around in a wide curve, before he spoke again. "I can be your family."

Ace gave a small smile at that, slightly bitter. "I don't think family works like that."

"Why not?" The boy turned to look up at him, face stubborn. "Family's about caring and stuff, right?"

"You can care about people other than family," Ace pointed out with a small shrug. "And we're not related."

Luffy sniffed at that. "I don't care about relation-stuff. And I don't want to care about you in a non-family way, so you'll have to be my family instead. And I'll be _your_ family, and you'll have a family then, okay?"

"That's _definitely_ not how family works."

"I still don't care."

Ace gave a snort of laughter at the determination in his voice. "I don't think I'd be very good at being family," he admitted quietly.

Luffy beamed and gave another bounce. "It's okay! If you're new, you can practise at it. And if you do it wrong, I'll tell you and you can work harder. Got it?"

Looking at the younger boy in exasperation, Ace then glanced up at the slowly darkening sky. "I suppose I can _try_ it."

"Good. Makino-san says you never know if you can do something until you try. So you can try being _my_ brother, and I'll try being yours, and we'll meet in the middle." He grinned up at Ace, tugging slightly at his hand. "Can I be the older brother?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Were you born before me?"

"... Maybe?"

Ace stared at him. Luffy stared back.

"No?" Luffy guessed.

"Exactly."

And then they were home.


	6. Interlude

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, obviously.

**Warnings:** Likely to be future romances/relationships including het, slash and possibly femslash; these won't be the focus of the story. No Ace/Luffy. Odd pairings will likely abound, as well as OCs. Swearing, violence, AU, and eventual character deaths (including major characters). The plot is not set in stone, and is liable to change at a moment's notice on the basis of 'I realised there was a plothole' or 'I got bored and thought of something more interesting'. That's probably all.

**ADDED NOTE:** Congrats to Ffesthe for noticing the end line of last chapter – I wondered whether anyone would notice that! Just to point out that I _do_ quite like fluff, I'm just atrocious at writing it (though apparently I managed to pull it off last chapter?). In any case, this is an interlude because I got massive writer's block. It also skips about quite a bit, mostly because that's how I wrote it, and partly to confuse you.

There's currently a poll up in my profile for a small matter. It's not hugely important, but there you go.

**xxxxx**

**Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum**

INTERLUDE: _In order to become the master, the politician poses as the servant._

**xxxxx**

_Five weeks into term, Numa visits. He says it's to see how Ace is getting on, but Ace knows the staff will be writing careful reports about him and sending them to HQ – it's more likely because Numa is bored and wants to annoy Ace, whom he seems to regard as a favoured pet._

_He brings the chess-set Ace has admired for so many years and sets it up in a side-room, dragging Ace in during his free time and demanding a game. "It's been too long," he insists, and chooses white as always, making the first move._

_Ace responds as best he can, and four years of play carries him through for a while before Numa picks up the pace, stops holding back, and thrashes him soundly. "Stupid move near the middle. Good game, though!" He won't explain which move he's referring to, and it takes Ace a week of replaying the game until he realises the stupid move was Numa's, not his own, that the Rear-Admiral gave him an opening he didn't see at the time._

_For now, they play two games, Ace frowning at the board and Numa moving his pieces with elegant ease, his turns over almost as soon as they begin, while Ace studies the board and takes what feels like hours to decide his own._

"_You haven't asked me anything," Ace says suddenly, as he tries to work out whether one of Numa's knights is really the threat it appears. "Aren't you meant to be checking up on me?"_

_Numa shrugs casually and takes another mouthful of sake from his bowl, not bothering to look at the board. "Mah, should I be?"_

"_You should at least _pretend_ that's what you're here for." He gives in, goes with instinct, and surprises himself by playing a fairly good move._

"_Oh. Well, I can pretend if it makes you feel better, Shorty." Click-click, and Numa takes another of Ace's pawns, even as he focuses on pouring himself another drink. "How are you doing? Lessons going well? Any hot girls in training?"_

_Ace twitches, almost violently. "I'm _twelve_."_

"That's_ no excuse. You're meant to be a prodigy, aren't you?" The man only laughs when Ace snarls and throws a bishop at his head, which turns out to be a bad idea, because he counts it as Ace's move and won't let him put the bishop back on the board._

**xxxxx**

_Four years before that, Ace was bundled on a boat from Marineford to Mariejois, escorted by a twitchy Commodore, filled with anticipation and a cruel hope that Sengoku would make Garp suffer, though the meeting after he left wasn't quite what he would have wanted._

"_What do you think?"_

_Sengoku didn't look up at the voice. He'd been vaguely aware of the presence for several minutes – few would have believed the interloper capable of silence or patience, but the two men knew each other far better than mere rumours and reputation. He focused on his paperwork – an uprising in West Blue that was threatening to get out of hand, a few nobles in the Erloupe island chain that had decided to hike taxes up above their legal limits. "I think many things."_

_The Vice-Admiral scoffed and thudded into the seat opposite the desk, not even bothering to plaster a grin across his face. "You're taking my grandson away."_

"_He doesn't think of himself as your grandson," Sengoku pointed out boredly, wondering which one of the four likely responses Garp would give._

"_Doesn't change the fact that he _is_." Stubborn refusal, as Sengoku had expected. Almost word for word the same as the reply he'd judged most likely. "You're sending him to _Mariejois_. To _those_ shit-heads. What the hell is he meant to learn _there_?"_

_The Fleet-Admiral looked up at that, expression still carefully neutral. "The things _you_ never bothered to learn. Politics. Manners. Reality. When to keep his mouth shut. How to show people what they want to see." He scrawled a quick note across the bottom of one file and dropped it onto a separate pile. "In case you'd forgotten, they're our superiors. With Portgas there, they feel safer – in their opinion, Mariejois and everything in it is completely under their control. They'd wonder who or what he was being influenced by, elsewhere."_

"_That's not the only reason."_

"_Of course not. But it's a good one, isn't it?" The fact that Garp hadn't attempted to eat or drink anything was annoying. It meant he was _too_ involved in the conversation. "Not pleasant enough for public consumption, _just_ manipulative enough that they'll swallow it without digging any further." He smiled dryly. "Small manipulations here and there. That's what people _expect_ of me."_

_Garp didn't smile back. "So what's the _real_ reason?"_

"_There's a few. They're all either classified, or I simply don't want to tell you them."_

"_So you don't trust me?"_

_Another note written and signed. "I trust you just as much as you trusted _me_, when I had to find out about the Pirate King's son _eight years_ after _you_ saved his life." He didn't bother watching Garp's reaction at that, nor wait for the response. "Kong was Fleet-Admiral the time. Not me."_

"_Just because it was him that gave the order..." Garp shrugged, somewhat defensively, leaning back in the chair. "You agreed with it."_

"_I didn't _dis_agree out loud. Sometimes the deaths of innocents are necessary, when their continued existence can cause problems-" 'like the Demon of Ohara' went unspoken, "- but I've never killed anyone when the potential _gain_ from their life outweighed the risks. You know that."_

_Garp's face twisted, and Sengoku was unsurprised to find he didn't care. The man would get over his anger in a day or week, as he always did when Sengoku said something he found repulsive. Mental instability, certainly. Repression, perhaps. If he made an in-depth study of Garp's psychology, he'd go insane, or at least have a breakdown like the four psychologists Garp had been assigned in his younger days. "_Politics_," the Vice-Admiral spat, as if it were a curse._

"Everything's_ politics. It was politics that would have killed the boy under one man's orders, and it's politics that's keeping him alive under _my_ orders."_

"I_ didn't spare him for politics."_

_That was true. "You spared him because you're a fool," which they both knew was Sengoku's way of saying 'you're too soft-hearted for your own good, and it'll kill you one day'_, "_and you hardly did what was _best_ for him. _Mountain bandits_? Were you _trying_ to turn him into a criminal?"_

_He had the decency to sound a little embarrassed at that, at least. "I didn't have a lot of options!"_

_Sengoku winced briefly, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Of _all_ the people who owe you favours. Of _all_ the ex-Marines, childless couples and civilised villages that would have been _happy_ to accept a child from you, without asking a single question... I notice you didn't leave your _biological_ grandson with a group of criminal trash?"_

_Silence, and Sengoku sighed. "For all your so-called love, you have stupid ways of showing it."_

"_Don't make him like that other kid," Garp said abruptly. "Rob Lucci. I don't want Ace being... a murdering, psychopathic child-soldier. He's a _kid_."_

"_He'll be a Marine, not an assassin. Besides, there's no public coup in gaining the son of the Pirate King if we have to keep him _secret_," came the voice of reason, and then the words that were complete truth, but not the way Garp expected them to be. "He'll be a teenager before he becomes a Marine or kills for the first time. I promise."_

_Garp nodded, relieved, and Sengoku appreciated that trust even as he knew he was going to abuse it for the good of everyone. Garp thought it meant 'I won't let him be a Marine until he reaches the normal age of enlistment'. Sengoku knew it to mean, 'He's going to graduate right on time to become a Marine as soon as he reaches his teenage years', and contractually – if verbal agreements had meant anything, which they didn't – he was keeping his word._

_They couldn't wait until he hit seventeen. Not with the state the world was in, with Dragon taking control of the Revolutionaries and turning them from small, separate groups of inefficient idealists to a single well-trained network, an army of saboteurs and agitators. Not with pirates becoming more of a menace instead of less._

"_It's for the best," Sengoku said, knowing this was true, and Garp nodded again because his friend was right – and even if Ace hated him (his grandfather, whatever the boy said), he'd be _safe_ and successful. Sengoku's brain could find a thousand ways of stopping Ace turning to crime besides the stupid, cruel, obvious solution of death._

"_I trust you," he allowed. Sengoku raised an eyebrow as if this should be obvious, called him an idiot, and told him to make some damn coffee before he died of withdrawal; which led onto the regular tea versus coffee debate and took Garp's mind firmly away from young boys growing up surrounded by arrogance, slavery and the expectation they'd grow up to kill hundreds or thousands of men and women in the name of _Duty_ and _Justice_._

**xxxxx**

_It was fourteen months before Ace saw Garp again, and he found himself not caring; partly because he was still in shock, partly because it seemed so unimportant._

_He'd survived, hidden, when two of his tutors had dragged him down into one of the wine cellars with a few of the other children, keeping them silent and cowering in the darkness for nearly a day, while Fisher Tiger's men slaughtered and pillaged, and Ace's home burned above their heads._

"_This is why we keep them as slaves," one of the tutors whispered to the stricken children, just loud enough for the others to hear. "Give them freedom, and they'll use it to destroy everything they can."_

_Ace wanted to say he was fairly sure this came with the _pirate_ territory rather than the fact that they're fishmen, but the teachers were smart – he knew Sengoku picked them specifically for him – so he kept silent. If there was one thing over a year of hard study had taught him, it was that he didn't know everything, even if he was confused over how fishman blood could make someone evil when pirate blood was still redeemable._

_By the time they came up, the slaves and pirates were either dead or gone, except for a few slaves still remaining who had been brought up in Mariejois and had been terrified to leave the Holy City. Two children he'd played with were dead, one of them a Tenryuubito, and even though the girl had regarded Ace as a curiosity more than a friend, he still found the sight of her curled-up body unpleasant enough to turn away and vomit what little was left in his stomach after a day of hiding._

_The Marines were already there, grim-faced, and Ace would have liked to find one of them – Sengoku or Aokiji, who had often visited him, or even Akainu who – while hardly comforting – certainly would have made Ace feel better simply by stating his intentions to bring the pirates to Justice (which would, Ace knew, mean slaughtering them in this instance, or making a show of their executions in the worst manner possible, the thought of which filled him with considerable pleasure)._

_They were all busy though; he wasn't stupid enough to interrupt their urgent meetings or distract them from their tasks, so he wandered the rubble with the lower-ranked Marines, helping search for survivors and put out fires, saving as much as they could from the destruction. He'd stopped dry-vomiting after the third body he found, the badly-charred corpse of one of the cooks who'd always given the leftover bread to the songbirds in the aviary, also now dead._

"_You shouldn't be here," some Commodore had said finally, two hours after Ace had started, his big hand resting on the boy's shoulder. Ace had wanted to turn around and slap his hand away, but he'd learned _some_ self-control over the past year. "Go get some food and sleep, hm?"_

"_I'm not hungry," Ace lied._

_The man had looked amused at that. "Oh? And I bet you're not tired, either?"_

"_No." He'd learned stubbornness long before self-control. "I'm _busy._" He'd glared up at the man, daring him to force Ace away from the collapsed walls and roofs of what had once been a library, and the Marine had only grinned lazily back._

"_Okay. I guess you can sleep sooner if we get this done faster, right?" he'd said, before tossing his coat off – over Ace's head, in fact – and stepping forwards to start digging at the rubble._

_Numa, Ace found, only got more annoying over the years. Especially once his interest had been caught._


End file.
